


Mane Irae

by underoriginal



Category: African Diasporic Mythology, Hindu Mythology, Norse Religion & Lore, Supernatural
Genre: All characters are BAMFs, Character Death Fix, F/M, Gods are BAMFS, Loki's Kids, M/M, Multi, Post Hammer of the Gods, as they should be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underoriginal/pseuds/underoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer should have known better. They're called gods for a reason, and he's killed one of their own. He's not the only one plotting, and some plans are far closer to fruition than his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You learned all your tricks from me, little brother.” Lucifer spat the words out contemptuously, a shield of scorn to cloak his grief. Gabriel’s eyes filled with horror as Lucifer twisted his own blade deep in his gut. With a flash of light, his body crumpled to the floor, the ashes tracing an outline of great wings in confirmation of an angel’s death. 

Miles away, Kali smirked.

Her reputation spread far and wide and all men feared her. She had forgotten how convenient it could be to be underestimated.

“Drop me off here,” she ordered.

“Are you sure?” Dean Winchester asked. “It’s the middle of a freakin’ highway.”

Sam Winchester was silent. He likely didn’t even know why he mourned. Once, Kali would have been jealous. 

“Quite sure,” Kali confirmed.

With a shrug, Dean pulled over. As she left, she tossed two vials of blood to the younger Winchester. She only needed one.

The Winchesters drove off and Kali pulled away from Earth. Her destination was one she had only visited once, hoped never to visit again. She steeled herself. Desperate times called for desperate measures and this time she and Sigyn had a common goal.

~

Since her children had grown old enough to leave, Sigyn had no pressing duties to fulfill. She didn’t have many friends, either; marrying a Trickster tended to alarm people, but she was content with her relative solitude.

Thus, the knock at her door took her by surprise.

“One moment,” she called, setting down her book.

She opened the door and froze.

“Kali.”

“Loki is dead.” Well, no one could ever fault Kali for beating around the bush. “I need your help to fix that.”

“What happened,” Sigyn demanded coldly, standing aside to let Kali enter.

“Lucifer killed him,” Kali’s voice was inflectionless. If she lost control now, all was lost.

“Show me.”

Kali laid a hand on Sigyn’s brow, pouring images, memories into her head. Sigyn blinked once when the flow stopped, deliberately calm.

“You ought not gamble with angels’ lives, cousin,” she admonished. “They are not so easily restored as gods.”

“I did not gamble with an angel’s life,” Kali defended. “I gambled with a Trickster’s.”

“I will speak with my stepdaughter. We will need a proper body if this is going to work.”

“His body is at the hotel,” Kali said.

“That one was mortally wounded, beyond even our skill to heal. Anansi will be able to help us.”

“He will be able to help, of course, but he will not.”

Sigyn fixed Kali with a glare. “Persuade him.”

~ 

Sigyn’s closet had a false bottom. It did not, strictly speaking, need one, but she had long ago learned the value of paranoia. She opened the secret compartment and retrieved a small vial. She closed the drawer so that it could never be found by one she had not permitted to find it. She added a few extra enchantments, just to be sure. The liquid inside the vial was pale blue, but only because she like the color.

The next part was the hard part. She carefully examined the visible contents of her closet. After much deliberation, she selected a velvet dress, pale blue to match the vial, with gold trim. She twisted her hair into a prim bun with a long silver pin and donned fawn colored riding boots. She left her ears and neck unadorned, but slipped three slim bracelets on her left wrist. One was ivory, one was agate, and the third was tourmaline.

That task finished, she laid down on her bed and uncorked the vial. With well-practiced movements, she downed the contents, re-corked the vial, destroyed all evidence it had ever existed, and died. It was swift and painless. Sigyn knew her poisons well.

~

Not many people would think to look for Anansi in Scandinavia, but not many people could say they’d ever truly known a Trickster. Kali was not vain enough to add herself to the latter category, but she and Gabriel had been in love once. She knew well enough how Tricksters operated.

That was how she found herself in a dimly lit strip club in the middle of Helsinki, chatting over a cheap beer in a corner. 

The form Anansi had chosen this time was short, skinny, and very nearly the color of ebony. His dyed-red hair was artfully disheveled and he constantly ran his too-long fingers through it.

“I expected an artsy cafe,” Kali noted “not this place.” She gestured idly with one hand, her displeasure obvious.

Anansi shrugged gracefully. “This is a better hunting ground. Work before pleasure and all that, although in some cases, the two aren’t mutually exclusive. See that man over there?” He nodded towards one of the patrons.

Kali watched him for a few moments. He started coughing up blood. By the time she turned her attention back to Anansi, he was already dead.

“I was just gonna make his next girl a succubus,” Anansi chuckled. “I guess that works too.”

With a classic Trickster’s smirk, he snapped his fingers. The world around them rippled into nothingness and reformed into exactly the pretentious cafe Kali had expected. Anansi sipped his coffee, grimaced, and poured in three sugars.

“So,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Loki is dead.” 

Anansi raised an eyebrow. “Is he now? Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming. Anyone else survive your little plan?” He sounded curious, nothing more.

“Sigyn and myself are working on restoring him,” Kali deliberately didn’t answer the question. She didn’t owe the Spider any answers.

“Together?” Anansi asked incredulously. Kali nodded. Anansi laughed loudly enough to attract every single customers attention. With a wave of his hand, he got rid of them. “You and Sigyn don’t belong on the same plane of existence, let alone the same sentence.” He could barely contain his mirth.

Kali glared. Anansi quickly sobered.

“We will need a body to return to when we have his Being,” Kali said.

“Yep. He will,” Anansi agreed.

“You will have one prepared for him,” Kali ordered.

Anansi laughed again, darker this time, mirthless, dangerous even. “What kind of fool do you take me for, Kali? I know all about your little plan. Have to be blind to miss it. You’re the one who broke your precious Loki. It’s not my job to fix it.”

“He was never meant to die,” Kali insisted.

Anansi’s eyes tightened. “It was never meant to happen,” he repeated scornfully. “I have heard every single variation of that excuse under the Sun and a few more besides. It doesn’t get any better falling from your lips, princess.”

“We need him to stop the Apocalypse,” Kali tried.

Anansi looked sad. “I’m a married man, Kali dear. I’ve got kids. I’ve got a family. I can’t afford to go up against Lucifer. The Apocalypse, that’s a Trickster’s paradise. That I can live with. That my kids can live with. I can’t help you. I’m sorry, Kali, but I can’t.”

~

The diner was just like the thousands of other diners that graced roadsides nationwide. It was reasonably small, garishly decorated, and a prime location for people who had no intention of ever returning to the area. It’s employees were high school students looking for a little extra money and old women who had worked there for as long as anyone could remember and simply couldn’t bear to leave.

It was a Tuesday and lunch service was almost over. All of the waiters had left, except for Helen.

Helen was the bane of moral guardians everywhere; try as they might, they could never quite find anything wrong with her behavior or appearance. Her long black hair covered half her face, but it was neat, well kept, and in a conventional hairstyle. She wore miniskirts, but she wore them with black hose, even in the summer. Her shirts hung off her shoulder, but her midriff stayed covered and her hair concealed most of her upper body anyway. She wore a thin black glove on her left hand.

If anyone asked, she said that she’d burned her hand the other day and she didn’t want to call too much attention to it. Whenever she said this, Gary, one of the diner’s few regulars, would chuckle softly. She’d been wearing that glove for as long as he’d known her, and he’d known her for quite a while.

The bell on the door rang and two men walked in. They were tall, muscular, attractive. Helen looked them over appreciatively, barely refraining from whistling. 

“What’ll it be, boys?” she asked.

The taller one ordered a salad. The shorter one ordered a burger. As she waited for the orders to cook, Gary leaned over to whisper to her.

“That them?” he asked. 

“Yep.”

“Want me to kill ‘em?”

Helen laughed. “I’d say I’d like to see you try, but I actually kind of like you. Leave ‘em be. Just for the moment.”

Gary shrugged and sank back into his chair. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Once the Winchesters had paid and left, Gary spoke up again. “How long we plannin’ on stickin’ around here anyway.”

“Not long now,” Helen answered wistfully. “They’re almost here. We’re almost ready.”


	2. Chapter 2

After Kali left, Anansi tried to keep working. He really tried, but he was too shaken to concentrate. Say what you will about Loki, but the guy was damn good at his job. Not as good as Coyote or Anansi himself, but good enough to not get killed by Lucifer. Besides, that wasn’t the only rumor that had reached his ears. Mercury was dead. Not only dead, but a traitor. There were days Anansi hated being the god of Stories.

A few half hearted attempts later, Anansi called it quits and went home. He and Aso shared a small townhouse in the suburbs of Helsinki. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the wonderful smell of Aso’s cooking. There were few thing in the world he loved more. Aso herself was one of them.

He and Aso had fallen in love when the world was young and their love had only deepened with the years. They had two children, a son named Ntikuma and a daughter named Thema-Abena. His family was his world and now no matter what he did someone would be trying to tear it apart. He didn’t doubt that Kali had her own methods of persuading him to help.

Aso noticed his discomfort as soon as he entered. “Bad day at work?” she asked.

“You could say that,” he sighed, sinking into the nearest chair.

“Kali’s plan went to hell?” Aso guessed knowingly.

Anansi nodded.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it after you’ve eaten. You look dead on your feet, dear,” Aso declared.

“Thanks, love,” Anansi said wryly. 

“You should eat more anyway. You’re far too skinny, and sweets hardly count as food.”

Aso was always telling him to eat more. He probably did; eating a full meal only every other day, but he rarely remembered. And his current form was annoyingly scrawny. Aso, on the other hand, was what people politely called big-boned or plump and very rudely called obese. Anansi preferred the term ‘glorious’.

Over dinner, which was as wonderful as always, their conversation focused on more pleasant things.

“How was your day?” Anansi asked. “Big opening and all that.”

Aso chuckled heartily. “It went flawlessly. This isn’t my first restaurant, you know. I know how to run the place. Although, if you get a chance, Kaarle Takala, my sous chef, was skimming off of the tips all night. I’d hate to have to fire a guy on his first day.”

Anansi hummed in agreement. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“How’d your meeting with the publishers go?” Aso asked.

That got a laugh. “I got rejected,” he said with a wide grin. “They said my stories were too unrealistic.”

Aso laughed too. “I was there for most of them.”

Once dinner was over and after Anansi had finished washing the dishes, Aso sat him down in the armchair by the fire.

“You want to tell me what happened now?” she asked gently.

Anansi told her about his meeting with Kali. When he had finished, Aso sighed heavily, shooting him an irritated look.

“We’re spiders, love,” she informed him. “Loki’s big and scary, sure, and so’s Lucifer, but it’s easy to hit the broad side of a barn. It’s not nearly so easy to hit a spider.”

“But what about our children?” Anansi asked. “Lucifer will go after them first.”

“So he will,” Aso agreed, “but Ntikuma’s a smart one, smarter than you if memory serves, and Thema-Abena’s not exactly easy prey either. But you’re looking at this the wrong way. No need to reinvent the wheel.”

Anansi followed her train of thought, amazed he hadn’t seen it sooner. Then he shook his head violently. “No,” he said. “He’s not gonna do it. He’s stayed out of everything for years. That’s not changing now. Especially not after what happened to him. I’ll never be able to convince him.” 

Aso rolled her eyes theatrically. “Men,” she said scornfully. “Of course you can’t.”

Anansi raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Doesn’t that just warm my heart.”

Aso poked him in the chest, then pulled him in for a kiss. “You get back to your chaos-mongering and I’ll worry about resurrecting your partner in crime.”

Anansi kissed her again. “Why do I put up with you?” he asked fondly.

“‘Cause I’m the only one who’ll put up with you.”

~

The moon is full. The moon is always full here. The shadows are long and twisted, just as they have always been. Occasionally a deer will slip into the clearing by the stream, but not too close. Never too close. It doesn’t bother him. If he had needed the deer, he would have died long ago.

The moon reaches his zenith. The sun never shows her face here. This is the closest thing he has to day. 

Slowly, achingly, he drags himself to his feet. The chains clink softly as he stands, breaking the half-silence. Flakes of dried blood fall from the shackles and float to the ground. He pays it no mind. He doesn’t bleed anymore.

He bends his head to drink form the clear water. He drinks and drinks and drinks until the moon has gone away and returned and reached his zenith once more. His thirst slaked, he lays back down, his head nestled in the moss. Once he had known comfort. The moss is the closest thing he has to comfort now.

The land shifts, or maybe the shift is within him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. He raises his head and gazes at the stars. He had almost forgotten what they looked like, though he knows their reflection well enough.

The stars shimmer and shine and dance and one by one they die. One by one their dance ends until the only light left is the moon. 

Somewhere deep inside, bone-deep, soul-deep, he _knows._ He raises his head to the dying stars, to the full moon, and screams his grief for the world to hear and tremble.

The chains begin their own dance, shaking and shuddering until they are falling apart under the waves of his agony. By the time the moon slips beneath the horizon, they have fallen into dust. He is free. He had forgotten what _free_ meant. He could have left then, run and run and never return. But he does not. He settles down to sleep again. What is one more night to one who has waited millennia? Barely a trifle. 

As his eyes close, the sun rises. _Here_ vanishes. As sleep claims him, he feels a familiar hand carding through his hair. 

“Just a little longer, brother. We’re almost ready.”

~   
After her failure to convince Anansi, Kali returned to watching the Winchesters. She didn’t follow them on their plane, but she could learn everything she needed by listening to the dead.

Technically speaking, she was only allowed to interact with Hindu dead, but, technically speaking, she wasn’t a goddess of Death. Technically speaking didn’t really apply to Kali. Besides, the demon Brady’s purpose had been fulfilled in Lucifer’s eyes, so he would have no reason to keep an eye on that servant.

It infuriated Kali how little respect Lucifer gave his devotees; she treated her own like her own children, but she was opportunistic enough to use it to her full advantage. 

She was also not above fixing the odds in her favor. The Winchesters were going after Pestilence, or so the demon said. She sent her own flavor of help their way.

When that was finished, or at least under control, she stretched her consciousness towards Sigyn. She found nothing. Annoyed, she switched her focus to Death. 

Death replied.

When her vision had cleared, she picked herself up carefully and left the space between planes. She would need to talk to Shiva. This was much worse than she had thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the mythology, Anansi only has one child, Ntikuma. I realized this after I had mentioned that he had more than one child. For some reason, creating an OC is easier to me than fixing a plural.


	3. Chapter 3

_Millennia ago..._

Magni and Modi were lovely children, really they were. They were sweet and kind and inquisitive. They were polite and well mannered and learned all their lesson well. They were the best little boys any nursemaid could have been asked to attend, and they were Prince Thor’s children to boot.

Sigyn tried very hard to remember those things because while Magni and Modi were truly wonderful boys, they were also little shits and she probably couldn’t get away with strangling royalty. Not that she wasn’t willing to try if their antics kept up for much longer.

“Miss Sigyn!” Magni bawled, “Modi hit me!”

“Magni started it!” Modi insisted. 

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!” Magni punched Modi, sending him flying across the lawn. He smacked his head against a tree branch.

Modi shot up and charged his brother, eyes alight with his berserker rage. Oh, that was just wonderful. Exactly what Sigyn loved. She stepped between the rampaging toddlers and tried to grab them both. She got a hold of Modi easily enough, but then Magni grabbed on to her wrist and flung her almost a hundred yards away.

She slumped against the tree, dazed, and watched absentmindedly as the twin terrors kept trying to kill each other. She should probably do something about that.

“You alright down there?” someone asked.

She looked up. A boy, maybe seventeen human years, about her age, was perched on a branch of her tree. Her tree. Not his. She was there first. He had just climbed it somehow without her noticing. He was cute, she noticed. All golden hair and amber eyes and just enough childish innocence to convince her that he was about as innocent as Magni and Modi. Something exploded. Business as usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just gimme a minute.”

“You sure?” the boy asked, leaning forward in the tree.

“I’m sure.”

The boy looked out over where Magni and Modi were dueling. “Want me to calm ‘em down?” he asked.

Sigyn giggled. “How would you do that?”

“I know a lot of tricks,” the boy said confidently. “Here. Let me show you.” He snapped his fingers and a thrush appeared in the air beside him. It perched on her shoulder and trilled happily.

“Very impressive,” Sigyn said, “but that doesn’t mean you can handle the Terrible Twosome.”

“I don’t think twosome is a real word,” the boy said. “Maybe they’re like the Diumvirate of Death.”

“Duo’s easier to say,” Sigyn said. “So, you can make them stop?”

“Of course!” the boy exclaimed. “It’s simple work for a Trickster such as myself.” He leaned farther forward in the tree, overbalanced, and fell out with a squeak. He jumped to his feet and dusted himself off.

Then, with a ridiculous flourish, he snapped his fingers. The sounds of toddlers trying to bring about Ragnarok suddenly stopped.

“Dare I ask what you did?” Sigyn asked dryly.

“Oh, it’s simple,” the boy said excitedly. “I sent them to an alternate universe.” At Sigyn’s shocked look he added “They can get out again easily enough, but only if they work together. That way they can fight for as long as they want, and when they want to leave, they’ll have to stop fighting.”

Sigyn hummed appreciatively. “That is pretty impressive.”

The boy grinned like she’d just agreed to marry him. “So what’s your name?” he asked, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. 

“Sigyn,” Sigyn introduced. “What’s yours?”

The boy hesitated. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh...Loptr?”

“The prince of Jotunheim, Loptr?” Sigyn demanded incredulously. 

“Not anymore,” Loptr insisted. “I sort of ran away from home. I thought I might try my like in Asgard?” He made it sound like a question. He looked so hopeful and innocent that Sigyn couldn’t help her next words.

“You’ll need a new name if you want to fit in around here,” she pointed out.

“Well, yeah. But I haven’t been able to think of one.” Loptr’s face fell almost comically.

Sigyn really, really shouldn’t be helping him. “What about Loki?” she suggested.

“Loki?” Loptr asked. “Loki,” he repeated. “Loki. Loki, Loki, Loki. Hello, sir. My name is Loki. I’m Loki. Nice to meet you ma’am. Call me Loki.” He grinned brilliantly. “I love it! It’s perfect!” He actually spun around in glee.

“You know, I really should be going,” Sigyn said.

Loptr, or rather Loki’s face fell again. “Bye, Sigyn,” he said.

She smile at him. “See you around, Loki.”

~*~*~

Sigyn blinked and carefully sat up. She found herself in a dark, richly furnished room. A fire crackled warmly away in the hearth and simple candelabras illuminated the rest of the space.

“Good morning,” Death said cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Sigyn replied. “Is Hel here? I need to talk to her.”

“You just missed her,” Death informed her. “She’s on Earth right now. Looking for Purgatory.” He tilted his head to the side, listening. “My apologies,” he corrected. “She’s found Purgatory. She’s waiting for her armies to arrive.”

“Armies?” Sigyn asked, worried by how worried she wasn’t. “Plural?”

“Well, yes,” Death said with a small, proud smile. “There’s the army of Helheim, of course, all three armies of Hades-” He ticked them off on his fingers. “-the army of Patala, which Vishnu is loaning her for the occasion, and the army of Duat. She’s become quite the conqueror.”

“Thank you,” Sigyn said, slowly getting to her feet. “Would you please send me back?”

Death sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t, my dear. Nor can I tell you why. The best I can do for you is leave you in Purgatory, but I’m afraid it will be quite a struggle for you to hold out for long enough to allow Hel time to break through.”

“I am perfectly capable of holding my own in battle,” Sigyn said icily.

“I am aware,” Death acknowledged with a nod, “As are the Leviathans, I’m afraid.”

“But how long will I have to fight?” Sigyn asked. “It could take centuries for Hel’s armies to break through.”

“It could,” Death agreed. “But I assure you it will not. You underestimate your step-daughter if you think her unable of even entering an anarchic realm such as Purgatory. I would advise you to go to the human portal as soon as possible. You will not be able to leave by that path, but it is where her armies will enter the realm.”

With a deft flick of her wrist, Sigyn transformed her gown into armor and her hair pin into a long knife. “I’m ready,” she declared.

Death nodded once. The world flickered out and reformed around her. The battle began.

~*~*~

The blood of the demon Brady flowed at first, then it it trickled, then it oozed. Finally, it joined with the sewer water and flowed all the way out to sea. 

Science knows that a shark can smell a single drop of blood in a million drops of water. Science does not know that there are others who can smell it too, other who are far, far more dangerous. One other especially who has been waiting for this moment for a terribly long time.

The demon’s blood barely prickles the edges of his senses at first, but the smell soon grows deeper, more pervasive. He grows curious. He flickers his mind out, barely enough to tap the minds around him. A few of the smaller fish die from the pressure. It’s a shame, but inevitable really.

Soon, he finds what he is looking for. He begins to move. He hasn’t moved in millennia. It’s slow, cautions. Not enough to shake the earth. Not enough to create massive waves to drown the land. Not enough to bring the sky crashing down, nor enough to quench all fire, all light, all hope. There will be time enough for that later. He has other things to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Ever since the incident, Narfi Lokison had lived alone in the very furthest reaches of Asgard. He had made peace with Vali long ago, but his anger towards Odin had not dwindled. It had transformed into a deep sorrow and a slowly gnawing wrath. He had run before the wrath could consume him utterly.

Now, he had a small house and a small garden close enough to the forest for long walks when he wished for them. He was content. At least, he was as close to content as it was possible for him to be.

He was out in the garden, weeding his tomato patch when he heard a knock at the gate. Every muscle in his body tensed. He flicked a long knife into existence. He shielded himself from sight and crept noiselessly towards the gate. When he saw who it was, he relaxed, banishing the enchantments.

“Aso,” he greeted.

The spider’s wife smiled warmly. “Narfi. How have you been?”

Narfi shrugged. “Well enough.” He didn’t open the gate.

“You garden look lovely,” Aso commented. “May I come and see it?”

Narfi considered her request carefully. From anyone else it would be suspicious, but Aso had a fondness for the simple things in life and her own brand of cunning was usually far less dangerous than her husband’s. He opened the gate.

Aso bustled past him to examine his prized rosemary bush.

“These are lovely,” she said appreciatively. “How did you get them so large?”

Narfi smirked. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

Aso fixed him with a stern look. Then a familiar gleam entered her eye. 

“I’ll buy a sprig for twenty.”

Narfi’s smirk widened to rival his father’s. “Not worth the price, Aso. You’ll never be able to match my craft.”

“Time will tell, dearie. Time will tell.”   
Unable to resist the challenge, Narfi sealed the deal. Aso tucked the sprig of rosemary into her purse.

“I really must be going now,” she said. “I opened another restaurant yesterday and I still need to supervise it. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

Narfi shook his head. He didn’t like to think about it, but his life was a lonely one. “Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea? Best in Asgard.”

Aso worried her lip for a moment. “I really don’t think that’s wise.”

“Come on,” Narfi cajoled. “Your restaurant can survive without you for half an hour.”

Aso sighed. “Well, if you insist, I suppose I could spare a moment.”

Narfi went back inside and Aso followed him. The door closed and a ring of fire rose up around Aso, trapping her.

“What the hell do you want from me?” Narfi growled. His whole body was twitching with nervous tension, but his eyes were chips of ice and anger.

Aso decided to be blunt. “Lucifer killed your father,” she informed him as calmly as she could. “Kali and Sigyn are trying to resurrect him, but we’ll need you to prepare to body.”

“They’ll fail,” Narfi said confidently. 

“Why would you think that?” Aso asked.

“Because they can’t do it,” Narfi shrugged. “Once maybe, Hel’s grandfather could have done it, but he won’t be able to do it. Not this time.”

“And why wouldn’t he be able to?” Aso demanded. “It is hardly out of his domain.”

Narfi laughed, cold and mirthless. It was the first time he’d laughed in centuries. “Tell me, then, if you’re so sure: Where is Baldr?” he ordered desperately, the muscles of his face twitching, though the rest of him was stock still. “Where is the Allfather?”

Realization hit Aso like a flash flood in the dry season.

Narfi grinned madly, already half wild, then his face crumpled in despair. He waved a hand and ring of fire vanished. “I will fix the body, if that should ease your mind,” he promised sadly, “but it’s all for nothing.”

Aso wrapped him into a sturdy hug. She was the only one other than his own mother and father allowed to do that and it rankled a bit, but he needed the security of his large arms more than he cared to admit.

“Why is it all for nothing, dear?” Aso asked, stroking his hair gently.

Narfi sobbed for a moment. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he lifted the hem of his shirt.

Aso made a small noise of shock and despair, but she didn’t faint and he had to give her credit for that. He didn’t know why it surprised him; he owed his life to the spider wife’s strong stomach.

After what felt like an age, he rose unsteadily to his feet, drying his eyes on his sleeve. He knew what he had to do. “I’ll help you,” he promised, almost hopeful now, “but there’s something else I need to do first.” 

~

Ash had been keeping an ear to the ground ever since the last time Sam and Dean had showed up in his little pocket o’ Paradise.

After he had died, he hadn’t worried too much about earthly affairs, except to cure his boredom, but the Apocalypse was kinda hard to admit. He was pretty sure that was the point, but it was still irritating.

Mostly, though, he focused his attention on Heaven. He had spent the better part of six months, Heaven time, bringing together as many of the old contacts he could, just in case someone could figure out something to do about the whole Apocalypse thing. That, and Heaven got lonely. Or it had been.

These days, things were very different in his little pocket o’ Paradise. For one thing, Ellen and Jo had settled permanently in his version of the Roadhouse. Bill dropped in occasionally to visit Jo. He and Ellen had spilt up right after they had been reunited. Both of them had cited the ‘till death do us part’ rule. They were still pretty good friends.

The same couldn’t be said for John and Mary Winchester, unfortunately. Both of them came by frequently but never together. John was annoyed that his wife had never thought to mention that she was a hunter and Mary, although she was eventually convinced that raising the boys as hunters was a necessary evil, had a lot to say about run-down motel rooms and giving shotguns to six-year-olds.

All in all, it was a pretty decent afterlife. Then Kali showed up.

She appeared in the middle of the Roadhouse one day while Ash was having a drink at the bar. She looked human on the outside, if hotter than any human had the right to be, but Ash had been in Heaven long enough to see the flicker of something else around her, like her body didn’t fit exactly right.

“So, you must be Kali, then,” Ellen greeted, fearless as she’d always been.

Kali nodded politely. “I am. And I presume you are Ellen Harvelle?”

“In the flesh,” Ellen said. “Well, sort of. What can I do for you?”

It was like watching two lionesses circling each other, claws still sheathed, but the threat plain to all. Or maybe two tigresses. Or maybe two large, angry house cats. Okay, probably not that last one.

“I will assume you are aware of the impending Abrahamic Apocalypse,” Kali said. At Ellen’s nod she continued. “I have more than a few reasons for not being overly pleased with it coming to pass.”

Ellen raised a brow, supremely unimpressed. “Cut to the case. We don’t got all day.”

Kali did. “I can resurrect you and your daughter temporarily to help the Winchesters. They have a plan. I don’t know what it is, but I am willing to give you a week. Full resurrection. You’ll be completely human. No strings attached.”

“What’s in it for you?” Ellen demanded.

Kali shrugged gracefully. “I still have a planet to rule?”

Ellen snorted incredulously.

“And there are more than a few reasons why it would be advantageous to have the Winchesters in my debt,” Kali continued.

“That’s not particularly convincing,” Ellen pointed out.

“True enough,” Kali ceded, “but you are my first resort. I have plenty more. If you are unwilling, there is always someone else I could find to help.”

The threat didn’t need to be spoken to be blatant. Ash could see Ellen weighing the proposal in her mind.

“One week. Can you give us any more?” she asked.

Kali sighed. “I wish I could, but because this is not my own realm for me to make such a thing permanent in Heaven would be about easy as hacking into Heaven with only human knowledge.”

Ash grinned broadly. Kali let her poker face become slightly more obvious. Ellen smirked, small but deadly.

“Lemme talk to Jo.”

Ash took another swing. This was gonna be fun.

~

Castiel looked up when the door to his hospital room. There wasn’t much more he could do without pain. His eyes widened when he saw the visitor.

“You aren’t Dr. Mills,” he stated.

The stranger shed his disguise. “It was worth a shot,” he said. At Castiel’s angry look he added, “Dr. Mills is fine. He took a day off with a mild cold. He’ll be back to normal by tomorrow. You have my word.”

“And how do I know your word is good?” Castiel asked.

The stranger nodded. “You don’t. But that doesn’t make it any less true.” He strode over to the edge of Castiel’s bed. “Hold still.”

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked fearfully, drawing back as much as he could.

“Hold still,” the stranger repeated. “It’s going to be okay. You just have to have faith in me, Castiel. It’s going to be okay.”

The stranger placed his outstretched palm on the helpless angel’s chest and Castiel’s world exploded into pain.


End file.
